Page 65 of A Prince So Cruel

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“Stay away as much as you can.”

“Okay.”

“And… know that were I in full control of myself, I would never be so forward.”

“Forward?”

He glanced at my loose hair to remind me of the way he’d unbound it. He had asked for my permission when he first tied it—kind of—but he’d roughly removed it with an entitled, possessive air. There was a difference.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re the Seelie Prince.” I tried to make it sound like a joke, but the comment seemed to carry an underlying message:You’re the Seelie Prince, and I’m no one.

“I am but a male, and you are—” He stopped as if biting his tongue. “You should prepare another elixir, don’t you think?”

He was right. The evening was fast approaching, and I had to ensure he didn’t get out of this room.

“I’ll take it now,” Kalyll said as soon as I finish making the third dose of the marsh flower elixir. “The last time we waited a bit too long,” Kalyll added. “Let’s be safe and let me drink it now.”

I made the next dose slightly stronger, though not too much. He had slept soundly, but his vitals had been normal. I figured he could probably withstand double the last dose, but I was about to inject him with stillstem, so I didn’t want to take any risks. I checked the time on the pocket watch. It was past four.

While I worked, Jeondar returned and seemed relieved to find everything the same.

“Everything all right up there?” Kalyll asked, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Yes. My father asked about you. Arabis told him you were resting, that you’ve been working too hard lately.”

The prince grunted, then turned to me. “Ready?”

I nodded, while I nervously went over more mental calculations. The second dose had lasted a bit over two hours so far. Extrapolating from how long the first dose kept him calm, I could safely assume that he had another twenty minutes left and that the third dose would give him three more hours. A fourth dose along with the stillstem, and things should hold until dawn.

“Here you go.” I tried to bring the flask to Kalyll’s mouth, but he took it from me—not letting me help him this time.

I tried not to feel disappointed as he pressed it to his lips with a shaking hand that struggled against the weight of the manacle. When the flask was empty, he handed it back, his mouth working against the bitter taste of the marsh flowers. His hand dropped heavily to his lap and he stared at it, annoyed.

“I wish we’d had time to work up a dose to make these chains unnecessary.”

“Me too.”

“The stillstem now?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’ll wait for a bit.”

“Once I’m asleep, you should take a break. You’ve been here long enough.”

“I’d rather not. I always stick by my patients when we try new things.”

“You have to show your face at the ball,” Jeondar said. “At least for an hour.”

“Honestly, attending a party while I have a patient in a… delicate state is not the best idea.”

Kalyll chuckled. “I’m not in adelicatestate. I assure you.”

“Maybe not, but it is a delicate situation, nonetheless.”

The prince’s mouth twisted to one side. He couldn’t argue with that. Still, he had another point to make.

“It will be bad enough that I won’t be there. Your presence at the ball will… help avoid additional questions and speculation of any kind.”

“Yes,” Jeondar agreed. “It’s already bad enough we have to be in and out. And bad enough, we’re leaving Imbermore tomorrow.”


Tags: Ingrid Seymour Fantasy